Jenny arrived at the ruins of the MIT extension campus. Peters in tow, as she carefully picked her way across the swaying and unstable structure of the abandoned labs, and towards the decrepit and worn-down lab that Peters pointed out to her.

"It's become kind of famous," said Peters. "The lab that built the Zillwell machine." He caught her just before she stepped on a rotted floor-board. "Mind your step."

Jenny did.

Cautiously and carefully entered the lab.

Most of the machinery had been looted and gutted. Most of the rest of it was just decaying and falling apart — like the rest of the building. As if it really had been abandoned for hundreds of years.

But the writing and equations scribbled across windows and walls… was still there. Still legible.

Jenny stepped towards it.

Studying the equations.

"Lab that killed our world," Peters said. He kicked one of the decaying bits of lab machinery, hard, and it clattered against the ground and fell apart. The building creaked and protested around them. "Damn know-it-alls. Always knew MIT would end the world."

"MIT didn't."

Peters looked up at Jenny, who'd abandoned the equations, and was now hurrying — fast as she could pick her way across the room — to the other side of the lab.

"I should have worked it out, earlier!" Jenny chided herself. "Everything here's wrecked and ruined. Except…" She raised up a small dome. "…this!"

Peters looked at it, impassively.

A dome which looked just like the one draped over the top of the Zillwell Machine, back at the police station.

Peters shrugged. "So it's… a Zillwell machine prototype or something," he guessed. "Before they built—"

"Think about it!" Jenny cried, jumping towards him and shoving the dome into his hands. "Everything else around here has been decayed and destroyed. Its life span greatly decreased — just like yours! Except this!"

Peters frowned.

She was right.

"But what does that…?" Peters tried.

"It means," Jenny told him, "that MIT didn't destroy your world. MIT tried to save it!"

"Huh?"

"That story you told me, earlier," said Jenny, "about how your world ended — I thought it was a story about hysterical people shocked that you could predict the future, and protesting against that technology. But the machine in the movie didn't work — and no one thought yours worked, either." She looked straight at Peters. "Did they?"

"No," Peters agreed.

"They thought you were just arresting people at random for to make some political point," Jenny continued. "Which is why the whole world fell apart. Everyone thought it was fake."

"Yeah, of course," Peters said.

"Everyone… except MIT," Jenny corrected. She gestured at the equations. "The people here realized there was a powerful force inside the Zillwell Machine — and used equations to work out what it was, and how the Zillwell Machine actually functioned. Then they created a special kind of material that could contain the force… before the machine had a chance to age everything and everyone on this whole planet to death in a matter of seconds."

Jenny paused.

Her face bending into intense concentration, as she thought of something else.

"MIT still destroyed the world, though," Peters insisted. "I mean, maybe they did realize their mistake, later, and to try to fix it. But that doesn't mean—"

"Material Sciences," Jenny cut in. "This is a material sciences lab."

Peters looked around himself.

Shrugged.

The building gave another groan and shudder.

"Material Sciences and Spacio-Temporal Engineering were on this planet," Peters confirmed. "The extension campus. Everyone knows that."

Jenny gave him a sidelong look.

And Peters knew… he was missing something obvious.

"What…?" Peters began.

"You really never thought of the obvious question?" Jenny placed her hands on her hips. "That Zillwell machine is supposed to be some temporal novelty. If it were an MIT invention — why was it built on this planet? And not by the temporal physics department, back on Earth?"

Peters had to admit — he hadn't thought of that.

"You're not very intelligent for a homicide detective, are you?" Jenny sighed, heading over to him. "No wonder there's so much crime around, if…"

Beneath Jenny's feet, the floor groaned and then snapped. She cried out, as she started to tumble — but was caught by a lunge and grab from Peters.

Who hoisted her back up.

"Still got my good-side, though," Peters reminded her, with a wink. "Saving the damsel in distress." Gestured at the floor. "Watching your steps, and…"

He paused.

Knelt down, squinting at the dust. "Funny. More footprints. Fresh — and not made by us. I didn't notice that, before."

"Good to see you finally using your brain," Jenny muttered. Still, might not be Peters' fault — maybe the Zillwell Machine had made everyone's jobs so easy, all the cops had gotten stupid and lazy about things. And — if she just got them to think a little — they could get back to being the effective crime-fighting force they'd once been.

Or not.

"They look kind of like that Seo-person's footprints," Peters said. His eyes falling on the far computer bank. "And they lead… right to that machine."

Jenny grinned, then grabbed up bits of old machinery and headed to the computer bank. Wiring the spare parts back in, to create a portable generator or something that'd make the computer work, again.

"It's one of those graphene interface devices — I love those," Jenny said, as she finished her work. "They might short out or have parts of them burn through, but they're always recoverable." She grinned, as the whole system flickered back online. Stood up, brushing dust off her trousers, and set to work at the interface. "Like I thought. Last thing on the screen is what Seo found, in their systems. A vital clue."

"As to why Seo murdered her friend?" Peters asked. "You said you were surprised about that."

"No, not that — a clue about what's really going on here," said Jenny. She shoved the graphene display at Peters, letting it drift through the air on its anti-grav suspension.

Peters caught it.

Found himself staring at an article entitled, "Plagiarist expelled from MIT."

"Aldor Caveer," Jenny said, as Peters read through the article. "Found plagiarizing designs from others, and fabricating the results of his experiments to make them show what he wanted. He claims he only did it because he was focused on his real work — creating something that would make him the 'Zillwell of Science'."

Peters glanced up at Jenny.

And it was obvious — they were both thinking the same thing.

"This is the person who created the Zillwell machine," Peters said. "Someone expelled from MIT."

"Someone who liked to steal technology and designs from others," Jenny added, "and then doctor the experimental results to make it seem like his invention was working perfectly."

Peters shook his head. "But the Zillwell machine does work!" he insisted. "It tells the future. It can prevent murders. We've got first-hand evidence of that!"

"With a hundred percent accuracy?" Jenny grabbed her gun out of her back pocket, and pointed it squarely at Peters. "Did it see me killing you?"

Peters raised his hands, eyes wide with surprise and fear. "Jenny… what are you…?!"

Jenny pulled the trigger.

Peters squeezed his eyes shut.

Nothing happened.

"You're frightened." Jenny lowered the gun. "You really thought you were gonna die." She showed him the gun. "Not loaded. You should have known that."

Peters breathed a sigh of relief.

"My point is," Jenny said, "if you really could predict the future with complete accuracy… if you could see any murder before it happened… you cops wouldn't be frightened when I pulled a gun on you. Because you'd know, for a fact, that I wouldn't kill anyone — because if I was going to, you'd have foreseen it."

Peters lowered his hands, slowly. "But… in the Zillwell movie, they said time, when predicted, became infinitely variable—"

"It's a movie, Peters!" Jenny insisted. "A movie created by a director who didn't know the first thing about temporal physics or the Laws of Time. All the science in that movie is nonsense — even the movie, itself, admits that!"

She paused.

Then sighed, as she began pacing the room.

"No, that Zillwell machine you have isn't a temporal predictor," said Jenny. "Nor is it just an empty bit of kit designed to scare the population into spying on their neighbors." She paused, her eyes lingering on the equations scribbled onto the glass walls. "No. It's as if… time's been accelerated on this planet. Humans living through their entire life-span in only a year. Buildings crumbling and falling apart almost before your eyes!" She gestured at the area around her. "And MIT got hit the worst."

"But why or how would someone from the Material Sciences department be able to make something like that?" said Peters.

"Well, he didn't," Jenny replied, stepping towards the equations. Her finger tracing below each in turn, looking them over more carefully. "That's why he mucked up his temporal predictor. Your world didn't fall apart because of civil war, Peters — I think this machine of yours caused a global disaster. And it was only afterwards that you…"

She trailed off.

Frowning.

"No, that doesn't make sense," Jenny said, tapping her finger under one equation. "That molecular structure for the dome we found — that's not a temporal dampener. It couldn't have been used to stop the Zillwell machine."

"You said it did!"

"I know, but… look at it!" said Jenny. "The way it's made! That dome wasn't designed to contain time winds or an intrusion from the vortex, or…"

She trailed off, again.

Her face suddenly growing terrified.

"Unless… that's why the machine seems to work," Jenny breathed. "And why Jack was…"

As if in response to Jenny's revelation, the building shook. Structure groaning and creaking around them.

Jenny's eyes wandered up to the ceiling, and she sucked in a sharp breath. "And that confirms it."

"What…?" Peters started.

The roof sagged, and Jenny just barely had time to push them both out of the way before it collapsed around them. "We've got to get out of here," said Jenny. "They know I know. They're going to try to rip this place apart — with us still inside."

"Who are?" Peters demanded. "What are you…?"

The floor creaked, then shattered into splinters. Both Jenny and Peters tumbling a full story down, as the whole building started to collapse.